


Remember Someone Else

by VenueWings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Batman: The Killing Joke, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenueWings/pseuds/VenueWings
Summary: (Crossover) Prompt: Someone pulls a "The Killing Joke" for Harry, unfortunately for everyone involved, the victim has settled far from the Boy-Who-Lived and someone else (from another fandom) sees instead.In his apartment, Wes Gibbins kissed Rebecca Sutter and later, Levi Wescott. In the same apartment, Theodore Nott tortured Dean Thomas and remembers the war.
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott/Dean Thomas, Wes Gibbins/Levi Wescott
Kudos: 10





	Remember Someone Else

**Author's Note:**

> So originally, I was supposed to write a HP/HTGAWM crossover and I was trying to figure out how to add Levi Wescott/Wes Gibbins into it. Then I saw the prompt and decided it could help me contribute to rare Dean Thomas pairings.

When he first learned that Levi showed up in Philadelphia with no plans except the Rebecca investigation, Wes reluctantly offered him shelter. Levi mocked him about almost everything inside the apartment, but was silently grateful not to spend his nights in his car. Wes was actually a great roommate, due to classes and work he wasn't always around, plus he kept the place relatively clean. The drawback was that Levi's presence had to be a secret, so every time someone knocked on the door, Wes always told Levi to hide. Most of the time the people who visited Wes were the people from the law firm, although occasionally it was a neighbour or the landlord. Wes did his best not to host study sessions or give his fellow classmates any reason to visit him at home, but they still did. 

Peering through where he hid - behind curtains, under the bed, or in the closet - Levi could observe Wes interacting with people other than him. The easy smiles, the bashful nods, a far cry from the wary or angry looks Wes directed his way. Levi didn't trust Wes and it stood to reason that Wes probably didn't trust him too, but he could see how Wes earned Rebecca's affection, and the nickname Rebecca said his classmates gave him.

Wes was no innocent puppy, he may act so, but he had shown Levi he had teeth and wasn't afraid to bite. 

Sometimes, he wondered how that would feel. Rebecca was likely dead, but if they found her alive, he would ask her. The thought always made him laugh, and if Wes was around, the other boy always looked at him warily when he did that. 

For all that Wes got angry and yelled at him - "Stay away from Michaela!" - Wes was trying in his own way. He inquired about Levi's health - had he eaten, did he need Wes to get something - and admonished him from his more dangerous stunts - "You could have gotten hurt!" - it didn't seem like Wes really could be up to something nefarious. Levi was so caught up yelling back at him - "You trust Nate?" - or in his investigation into Rebecca's whereabouts, he should have checked Wes' background more thoroughly. 

The first visit from Wes' past, Wes tried to give warning. Levi was inside the apartment when he heard Wes' voice drifting loudly through the door. 

"I'll love to invite you in, but are you in any hurry? I don't have much tea inside, and its a bit of a mess..." 

Levi cleared any remains of his snack and quickly hid himself as the door unlocked. Peering through the closet blinds, he saw Wes enter with a stranger Levi had not seen before, another classmate? The newcomer was smiling, and spoke with a non-American accent, "This is your definition of a mess?" 

"Seamus," Wes smiled, eyes warm even as he gently chastised his friend, and it had to be a friend. Levi saw how happy Wes looked, relaxed, and the returning smile from the stranger. Of course Levi had seen Wes smile at his fellow classmates, but there was something so much warmer here. He watched Wes quickly look around the room, continuing when there were no obvious signs of Levi, "So, water, beer, tea in bags..." 

"You've become so American now," Seamus produced something from his pocket, it looked like a smooth stone, but Wes looked at it and simply nodded. The two shut the door behind them and Wes gestured for Seamus to sit. 

Later, Levi will wonder why he started mentally drifting, zoning out of the conversation Wes and Seamus were having right in front of him. He could only see their expressions, of two friends smiling and conversing over drinks, warm but with something nostalgic. The two looked as if they could speak for hours, but eventually Wes received a call with a ringtone that Levi recognized as Annalise's. As if breaking a spell, he stood up to answer, while Seamus searched his pockets. 

"Hi, Annalise, I...yes, of course, I'll be right there." 

"The boss?" Seamus smiled.

"Yea, she's definitely not Kingsley," the two shared a chuckle, but Seamus' smile faded quickly. Wes noticed, "What's wrong?" 

"I'm sorry, I probably should have told you earlier, but when I saw you again I couldn't help it." Seamus searched another pocket, before pulling out a sheet of paper, Levi questioned how it was so perfectly folded. Wes unfolded it as Seamus continued, "We think it may be Nott." 

Wes frowned, "Theodore Nott ran all the way to Philadelphia?" 

"We tracked Zabini across three continents, and still we lost him." 

"That wasn't my fault." 

"No one says that," Seamus gently touch Wes' shoulder. "Hey, no one blames you. Zabini was a slippery snake even when we were in school, and he's escaped some of our best trackers." Wes' expression turned bitter, and Seamus backtracked, "I didn't mean..." 

"It's fine," Wes interrupted. "I’ve made my decision and can't do anything more about it. I'll notify the local Aurors if I see anything, but I doubt Nott will be around this neighborhood. I have to go now," Wes made a point of eyeing his briefcase. Seamus, taking the hint, sighed. 

"May I..." Seamus moved slowly, giving Wes the chance to stop him, but Wes didn't. He returned the embrace just as tightly, and Levi heard the other's last words.

"Goodbye, Dean Thomas." 

And, after the door shut behind them, Levi remained as he pondered what he just heard. He couldn't believe he allowed himself to miss the earlier conversation, but what he did hear at the end made him curious and a little angry. Enough so that he stayed inside the apartment, pacing, until Wes came back hours later.

"Hello, Levi," he greeted tiredly. 

"I tried searching up Dean Thomas online, as well as variations of Theodore Nott and Zabini, no results." Levi carefully watched the expression on Wes' face, "No Seamus either." 

"You were here," Wes already looked like he was recalling his conversation, trying to remember if he said anything incriminating. Levi decided to save the time. 

"Look, I don't care if you had some other name, foster children frequently change names and I really don't care about what school drama or previous jobs you may have had with other bosses. What I am concerned about is you starting another investigation on top of everything, just because your ex asked you..." 

"He's not my ex."

"Really? I thought he was a friend at first too, but you're a little too warm with him. You looked at him like he hung the moon, or is this one of those crushes that you never did anything about..." 

"Are you jealous?" The note of sheer disbelief in Wes' voice made Levi pause, and he felt irrationally angry at it. 

"I'm not letting you prioritize another thing over our investigation!" 

It wasn't their first fight, they'd argued about everything to each other's trustworthiness to how an investigation should proceed. They had hissed, snapped, and yelled into each other's faces. Most of the time, Wes could remember any fight here could get his neighbour's attention, and calm himself accordingly. This time, with his childhood friend involved, he kept shouting even as the conversation moved on. 

"I'm trying to be a lawyer, there will always be multiple cases! You know I have school as well, so what bothers you about this case?" They were close enough that Wes could throw a punch. Levi's eyes narrowed, but he didn't attack, he kissed the other boy instead. 

He half-expect to be hit for his troubles, could feel Wes stiffen in shock, but hands came up to hold Levi's face and gentled the kiss. Wes' anger appeared to have calmed, and his lips moved slowly, coaxing Levi to soften his stance. Levi was ready to snap and snarl, to continue fighting, but he liked to think he wasn't a monster. He mirrored Wes' gentle motions, gradually easing the fierce grip he had on the other boy, until Wes could pull back. 

"I thought...Michaela..." 

"I haven't seen her," Levi kept his voice soft, slowly breathing in the same air as Wes, close enough to feel every puff of breath. "And I've never been too picky with my partners." 

"So I'm easy," Wes didn't sound like he was going to launch into denial or rant. For all the calm he was exuding, Levi was close enough to see the blown pupils and feel a racing pulse. It was enough for Levi to feel encouraged, to see about continuing their activities and testing just how long it would take before Wes' calm broke, but they were interrupted.

Another knock on the door. The second visit. 

Wes dropped his hands and Levi groaned, "Can't you not answer?" 

"It might be the law firm," Wes was straightening his clothes, which made no sense because Levi didn't even get that far yet. "You might want to hide." 

"In the closet, which I'm clearly not," Levi grinned. The apartment was small, in a few steps Levi was hidden, but something was wrong. He felt...uneasy, stiff, like something was slowly locking his limbs tight. He tried to shift comfortably, but his body wasn't responding. "Wes..." He began, only to find his voice fading. 

"Coming!" Wes called out as approached the door. He pulled it open, instead of the usual halfway, because he might have still been a little flustered. His brain registered the mistake the same time as it registered alarm. 

The male in front of him had a wide-brimmed hat and a horrible Hawaiian shirt, but it was the insane grin that caught Wes' attention. That, and the gun he pressed against Wes' stomach. 

The gunshot was a loud crack that could have cut through any noise. Wes' eyes widened as he staggered back, his hands automatically going to the wound. The stranger stepped inside, gun still in front of him. 

"Hello, Dean Thomas." 

He used the gun to push Wes, forcibly back into the identity of Dean, further inside. Dean stumbled, and could no longer resist his body's urge to collapse. He landed on his back, coughing and gasping, with just enough strength to lift his head and avoid a second injury. The former Gryffindor saw the garishly-dressed stranger move aside as another male stepped inside the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

"This was a mistake," the newcomer said. Tall, dark, would have been handsome if Dean didn't associate Blaise Zabini's face with so many horrors. His former classmate, unlike the stranger, was dressed in simple black robes. "Someone would have heard that." 

"Muggle weapons, so loud," the stranger holstered the gun, and Dean briefly glimpsed the wand. "I've cast a paralyzing spell, will cause a delay before anyone gets the alert. Nothing strong enough for the detecting wards, but it should give us some time." 

"If you're going to kill him, you should do it quickly," Blaise looked down at Dean with his typical apathy, and the stranger laughed. 

"Where's the fun in that?" The stranger knelt down beside Dean's trembling form, uncaring of the blood. He removed his hat before tapping his wand over the wound, "There, that should slow the bleeding, give us a moment to talk. Remember us, Thomas?" 

Through half-lidded eyes, Dean stared at the stranger, but he couldn't recall... "No." 

The same insane grin from earlier, and there was something familiar about it, but Dean lost that thought when he suddenly screamed. The stranger was digging his fingers into the wound, as if trying to find the bullet, or just for torture. As he did so, Dean felt as if the fingers change, grew longer and thinner. What Dean thought was a failing vision was the stranger's face suddenly shifting, changing, the grinning face suddenly leaning so close to him they were almost nose-to-nose. As the features settled, Dean felt another spike of terror, "Theodore Nott." 

"The muggles say this is a moment for a 'ding ding!' This face belonged to an American Squib who had enough muggle friends to demand some research, but not enough that they could notice my replacement. Polyjuice potion, so many opportunities." Theodore backed away to gesture grandly to his companion, "Blaise here thought it below himself to take the place of another, he simply got a new identity. You remember our classmate, Blaise Zabini, don't you? Guy you chased across several countries?" A dramatic sigh, "I wish someone paid me that much attention." 

"I stopped months ago," Dean hissed, "What do you want now?" 

"Why, to see an old friend! We were all classmates once, learning and playing at the same school, even if you insisted on only spending time with your fellow Gryffindors. I really should thank that one, he led us to you, you know." Theodore finally removed his fingers from the wound, only to reach up and paint a bloody smile on Dean's lips. "Don't look so disbelieving, Finnigan didn't mean to. It was stupidity and not malice, when he decided to look up your address. I pay attention to every file his team accesses, and just now I can't help but notice your state when you opened the door." Theodore's smile turned lecherous, "Did you two have fun?" 

He pulled his hand away just as Dean tried to bite. "Well! Is that what you two are into?" 

"Theo," Blaise's voice was annoyed. 

"I'm curious! Everyone knew the rumours at school!" Theodore's eyes glittered, "Who knows if we'll ever learn the answer." He slowly leaned down again, until he was pressed almost chest-to-chest against the former Gryffindor. "Who knows what Finnigan had been enjoying." Dean knew what was going to happen when he felt Theodore's fingers tighten into his hair. He could barely cry out before Theodore kissed him. 

The fingers digging into his scalp would have kept his mouth open, and unlike with Levi earlier, Theodore was ruthless. The tongue thrusting pass his lips was there to choke him as it was there to explore, moving and pressing against Dean's own. There was blood from where Theodore had painted him earlier, and when Dean finally tried to bite back, Theodore ignored it. The kiss was sloppy, dirty, wet with saliva and blood and everything Dean never wanted. Panting, he tried to turn his head away, tried to push the body off him. Theodore moved just enough to rub against the wound and Dean's fresh scream opened him up even more. 

"Merlin," Blaise muttered in disgust. 

He had many atrocities, but Blaise wasn't completely cruel. When it was time to cleanse wizarding society the Death Eater could plan systematic purges, the most effective ways to execute mass numbers, but he didn't take joy in another's suffering. He had killed, obviously, but he was just as content letting someone flee the country as he was executing them. Theodore thought differently, the other Death Eater had seen some of the bloodier battles, and witnessed plenty of their side getting slaughtered with muggle weapons and tools. Blaise would never say it aloud, but he suspected that was why Theodore became unhinged, studying the muggle world as well as obsessively terrorizing those he blamed as helping their side lose. 

A former classmate who had been friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, who had fought at his side, who had helped destroy many of the old families? It was Theodore's favourite target, and now here was one hidden away in the muggle world, away from magical security. 

There's a wet sound, a gasp, as Theodore finally pulled back. Dean watched as the former Slytherin sat back against his knees, pulling out a phone. "Finnigan isn't the only one chatting with the American Aurors now, we could have had a class reunion, what with the Boy-Who-Lived visiting the United States. Did Finnigan tell you? For their convenience the Aurors suggested they get phones, but Weasley thinks they might all be monitored. Still, my contact says many of them got one, including your friend. Do you think Finnigan will know what to do, if I sent him some photos?" 

From his position, Blaise could see the photos his friend was cheerfully taking. Images of Dean on the floor with blood on his body and mouth, lips so obviously bitten, hair mussed and eyelashes wet with tears. Theodore was happily telling Dean he looked great, doing so well, would he mind looking this way? Dean purposely turned his head in the opposite direction, and Theodore's smile dropped. 

"I'm talking to you, mudblood." He grabbed Dean's chin and turned his face towards him, “You hunted us down even when we were defeated, paraded our humiliation to the world, what I’m doing to you is nothing.” 

“I hunted you because you tried to escape justice,” Dean spat. “After all you did, you thought you got to simply move addresses, escape punishment for all the lives you destroyed? The world deserves to know what you’ve done, to see what happens should anyone else try to do what you did.”

The slap sent a few drops of blood on the floor, Dean tracked them with his eyes, “I’m not sure if that’s mine or yours.” 

“Pure blood with your filthy blood,” Theodore sneered. “Your precious Harry Potter grew from such polluted sources. He had the chance to better himself, to ally with the right people, and the war may have never started.” 

Behind him, Blaise mentally rolled his eyes. He was aware of the many other reasons that could have started the war again anyways, but so many of his fellow Death Eaters believed it was Harry Potter. The boy could have joined Voldemort and became their new poster boy and Blaise was sure the war will still happen. So while Theodore started monologuing and Dean suffered, Blaise started moving around the apartment.

The place was small, typical for a student, Blaise could see the books and papers. His eyes wandered over the kitchen, the desk, a shelf, the closet...

“Blaise!” Theo called out just as there was a ripping sound, and Blaise turned around. 

"Theo, if you brought me here to watch you fuck the mudblood..." 

"Not your thing, I know," Theodore was tearing at Dean's shirt, despite it clearly sticking into Dean's wound and blood. It drew another cry of pain. 

"Don't...please no..." 

"I really would have liked to hear you beg, one of Harry Potter's favourite trackers, his good friend. How do you think he'll react? His fellow Gryffindor, at the mercy of his enemies." Theodore ran a bloody hand up Dean's bare chest, "A friend he sent away to keep him hidden, at some misguided attempt at protection, only for that same security to fall apart because another friend decided to get sentimental and pulled his information out. Do you think Potter will be angry, yell at Finnigan, punish him? Perhaps he'll cry, they both might, when they find you, and swear vengeance. Some of the methods your friends approved to hunt down former Death Eaters are not quite accepted in the international community, how further do you think they'll go, before the rest of the world looks at your friends with disgust? After this, maybe they'll be violent enough to get kicked out of the United States." 

"That's why you're doing this?" Dean was trying not to pass out, doing his best to ignore the clicking sounds of the camera. "To get them removed from the country?" 

Theodore tilted his head, "The 'why'? To get them banned from the States, yes. To cause Harry Potter, and the rest of his friends, some well deserved pain, of course. Just maybe, you have the type of face asking to be hurt. You had the nerve to escape from Death Eater raids, only to turn around and start hunting us. You know why I shot you here?" The Slytherin tapped on the wound again, "Muggles can't quite fix damage to the spinal cord yet. Depending on when help arrives, you might never be able to walk again, let alone run away or after someone." 

Dean's eyes flickered, maybe trying to see if he could feel his legs, but given the injury and spell he couldn't tell for sure. Theodore leaned down to put his lips right by Dean's ear, "I truly am sorry for the lack of time. I would have loved to see you without the use of your legs, perhaps without Blaise around, powerless as I fuck you for hours. I might keep you for a few days, let your friends torture themselves with worst-case scenarios, blaming each other." He bit down, drawing another pained gasp, and licked a strip down Dean's neck. 

The Death Eater sat back up, speaking once more at a normal volume, "Alas, places to be, and if you are to survive this we really should be going." 

"You're not killing him?" Blaise scowled, "What was all this for? Potter and his cohorts will have him moved and we'll never get another chance." 

"I'm only giving him a fighting chance, he still might not make it," Theodore held up a hand when he saw Blaise reach for his wand. "Besides, after he stopped tracking you, you knew you would never see him again. I'm giving you a chance to share the story, the one from Macao." 

There was no way Dean knew the full story, but Blaise could see dread in his expression as those dark eyes automatically moved from Theodore to him. The stop at Macao had not even been a week, but it had been messy. "You remember Macao, do you not? The trouble at the casino, the loan sharks and human trafficking. Almost all muggles, except for that little boy you saw cast magic and tried so desperately to protect. No child should have been there, by the time things settled and child services got involved he would rather run. Perhaps you imagined he lived well, maybe he found friends, a family to adopt him, he didn't."

"No..." 

"We found him, those who sympathize with Death Eaters. We didn't care for some mudblood child, so we cracked his head open and put his memories in a Pensieve. I wanted to see what the Aurors had been doing, instead I saw you in his memories. That night your team brought you to a club to celebrate, you were accepting drinks the bartender gave you, drinks that I brought. I was plying you with drinks while the child's body turned cold, one of your own team said I could probably dance with you had I asked. Later, I left Macao and you stayed, trying to find the missing child, but you never did. Now you know why." 

A single tear finally rolled down, Dean had managed to hold back even as Theodore dug around his wound, but Blaise knew the story will hurt him more. Foolish Gryffindors, always so open about their emotions. Something settled in Blaise' indifferent heart, and he could understand why Theodore enjoyed this, why he would be fine with letting Dean Thomas live, in regret, despair, and fear. Turning to his friend, Blaise said, "Let's go." 

Theodore patted Dean's cheek, leaving bloody fingerprints in his wake, "We should do this again." He stood up, shirt and hands stained red, but with a wave his wand the blood was gone. Theodore put on his hat and swaggered out the door, "See you soon!" 

Dean's brain launched onto the implications of those words, the rest of him was too busy dying. He took ragged breaths, staring blankly up at the ceiling, until Levi's face appeared. "Wes? Jesus...I've called the police, you're going to be fine. Wes, can you hear me? Dean?" 

His brain took another second, he was Dean to anyone from Britain, from Hogwarts and magical society. He was Wes to those who met him after he signed the papers, giving up his magical abilities and anything to do with his teenage years. He had been asked once, if he wanted Dean Thomas completely replaced by Wes Gibbins, for there were Obliviators who could wipe all his memories away. Dean had thought about it, and said no. 

If he had taken the offer, would anyone had bothered looking for him? Perhaps Seamus wouldn't have, perhaps the Death Eaters would judge Dean Thomas already dead. 

"Wes! Dean! Whatever your name is!" 

Levi didn't dare move the body, and he was afraid a slap might knock something, but Wes' eyes were closing. He was starting to panic and he knew that it wouldn't help, but luckily the door burst open and someone else stepped in. 

The third visit, Levi looked up and met Seamus' eyes. The person he suspected to be Wes' ex took one look at them and his face crumbled, expression devastated. He started swearing loudly, cursing at anti-apparition wards, whatever that meant. Behind him, other people started pouring in. 

"Oh Merlin, Dean..." 

"How the hell did they find him?" 

"Stop the bleeding..." 

"There's a spell here..." 

"Who are you people?" Levi demanded, none of them looked to be police or paramedics, and all of them clearly knew Wes as Dean. They ignored him, already converging around the bleeding form, except for a girl with flaming red hair. With surprising strength she pulled him away and slammed him against the wall. 

"Who are you and what is your relationship with him?" 

"Ginny!" One of the strangers called out, and the redhead released him. The stranger approached, another boy about their age, with jet black hair and green eyes. "She asks what we all need to know, who are you?" 

"Levi," he didn't feel like giving his full name. "Who are you people? Who are you?" 

"Harry Potter," the other answered, and Levi felt like he'd just been punched. 

"You're the one who...Blaise and Theodore were their names..." 

"Yes," those green eyes were poisonous, "Tell me everything, and you'll hopefully never see us again." 

There will be no fourth visit. 

(Weeks later, when Annalise tells Wes to shoot her, Wes will know exactly where to aim. He will also stare at Annalise's shaking body and wonder why he thought of Levi at that moment, because he hadn't thought of him since the drug dealer was arrested. Wes will wonder why he felt a sense of loss, and lower the gun)


End file.
